Keeping It Going

In the absence of being part of a studio group and starting to work from my studio at home since the start of this year, I joined hARTslane gallery space as a member. It’s always felt a special place to me – diverse, inclusive, with sound values – and it feels a privilege to have had a prolonged connection with such a positive, friendly space. Life’s taken over somewhat since I joined and sadly, I’ve only managed to make it along to a couple of their many shows and events so far this year but I’m hoping that will change.

I did manage to contribute something to Tin, a risograph zine curated by Rachel Lonsdale and Max Melvin, however. The curators propose to: ‘gather the defining mood or spirit of this period … moving across the year with a new open call and new zine every season.’ These calls are open to artists who have become hARTslane members. See link to the various artist membership schemes here: https://www.hartslane.org/index.php/support-us/

And so, in March, I responded to a call for a 200 word piece on the theme of nature for the Tin zine, in which I feel I captured my own defining mood with regards to the UK’s current socio-political climate. Writing the piece confirmed yet again how hard it is for me to separate art, life and politics:

I saw a robin in the garden the other day. The tiny red-breasted bird is associated with the arrival of spring, new beginnings, hope and optimism. Funnily enough, I’d just been reading an article by John McDonnell, criticising the UK Labour Party’s latest policies. The Labour Party is also of course, traditionally associated with the colour red – the red flag, for instance, associated with left-wing politics and socialism since the French Revolution.

The Labour Party used to be associated with hope as well – a champion of the downtrodden and the vulnerable. Nowadays, it’s a different story, as expressed by McDonnell in the article I read. He accused ministers of lacking empathy over recently proposed benefit cuts: ‘treating disabled and sick people callously flies in the face of all the party stands for – the government must rethink its plans.’

It’s also believed that robins are sent as a messenger for lost, loved ones. Perhaps the one I saw represented the deep loss I feel for a political party that truly represents my values, stays faithful to its principles and stands up for those in society who most need it.

Kate Murdoch, March, 2025

Time to talk about austerity again?!

The impact of sorting and itemising just about every object I own (for art’s sake) took its toll on the state of my home. It’s just about sorted now but after months of minimal tidying up and cleaning up my living space, it’s been quite a task getting it back into its former liveable space. In between, there’s been some tweaking to do in order to sort out the new studio space in the garden. Juggling stuff between the garden studio, storage shed and my house has taken time but I’m so very nearly there. So much there, in fact, that I’m writing this from my new work space, trying my best not to be distracted by what needs to be done in the garden!

I’ve had half an eye on the news while all the above’s been going on, but there’s been a lot I’ve had to turn a blind eye to, simply not feeling able to stomach listening to one dire report after another, involving ever-growing, alarming increases in armed conflicts, economic and climate crises, the infringement of human rights and mind boggling discrimination.

Sadly, I have to look no further than the UK these past few days to see such negative reports. Recent news of Labour MPs rebelling against Keir Starmer’s latest welfare reform proposals suggest that austerity might just be in fashion again. Over 40 Labour MPs have told Starmer that they cannot support his intended welfare cuts and reports out on Friday claimed it’s the biggest attack on the welfare state ‘since George Osborne ushered in austerity.’

While sorting, I came across the box with my bread and roses in – still there after all these years, still decaying and still standing as a symbol of the austerity that I hoped (expected!) had gone down with the last Tory government. I would have doubted anyone who told me that there would be a threat of new austerity measures being imposed by a Labour government and that the work I created then would still feel relevant today, ten years on. ‘Bread and Roses’ was created in response to the election results of 2015 and was inspired by a statement put out on Twitter by artist, Jean McEwan. Jean asked the question, ‘how do we get through this?’ A number of artists responded in various ways and a zine was created to include their contributions. I focused on the austerity measures imposed by the then Tory government, recognising the impact that withdrawing financial support from the most vulnerable people in our society would have.

Four years on, cut to another General Election in December 2019, I had this to say:

‘… the remains of the bread and roses are hanging on for dear life – dried-out and husks of their former selves – all but gone, though there are traces still. The neglect and lack of care is well and truly set in and the images below represent the very real and devastating impact of austerity measures imposed upon the most vulnerable and poor.’

I remember those soul destroying days well … and yet, here we are, having gone full circle, this time under a Labour government. John McDonnell accused Labour ministers recently of lacking empathy over recently proposed benefit cuts – ‘treating disabled and sick people callously flies in the face of all the party stands for.’ Disappointment doesn’t cover it – I can barely find the words to sum up my feelings for a party which traditionally, stood for a party of hope – a champion of the downtrodden and most vulnerable members of our society. I feel an enormous sense of loss for a political party that truly represents my values, stays faithful to its principles and stands up for those in society who most need it.

Back to the blog again this evening and about to publish the 6th post for February, 2025. It’s the most posts I’ve ever written in one month since starting ‘Keeping it Going’ over ten years ago. The need to write is symptomatic of how significant this past couple of months has felt to me, I think – a need to record and account for what I’ve been up to.

As those of you who follow this blog will know, my main focus since the start of this year has been on sorting and cataloguing over 100 30 litre boxes full of stuff. It’s been a mammoth task and I’ve really felt it at times, both physically and emotionally.

It was the photo below in particular, that really drove home the enormity of what I’ve been doing since the beginning of 2025. The photo of the boxes in my garden on a rare sunny day was taken at the start of this week. Since then, the boxes have been returned to the garden shed and covered with a new, larger piece of tarpaulin. I feel pretty confident that they’ll now be watertight and my collections kept safe until such a time that I need to access them.

Two months on from leaving my studio in Deptford, things feel more manageable than I expected. I might still have to think about getting rid of a few more bits and pieces but, as things stand, I’m pleased with the progress that’s been made and am beginning to feel optimistic that the new garden office space, once it’s been organised, will be workable. I’m also pleased that the boxes fit comfortably into the garden shed with even, dare I say it, a bit of spare space.

It feels important to me at this point in time that the boxes are out of sight and out of mind. Having been so close to them and their contents these past couple of months, I feel very ready to take a break. It’s been quite a task, physically and emotionally, and I’m giving myself a long weekend off now in order to rebuild my energy for the next undertaking that lies ahead – ie. sorting out the space in the garden office in order to prepare it for a place to work.

Pockets of real life in the midst of the sorting …

A short break from the sorting meant a foray into real life over the weekend. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the company of other artists and their art, so it felt good to be out and about on Friday evening, albeit briefly. Sadly, I didn’t have time to hang around for too long at the first member’s show, ‘Love Shack‘ at hARTartslane on Friday evening.

hARTslane has consistently been a place I’ve loved to visit – a unique and inclusive gallery, tucked away in a side street in New Cross Gate. I always feel welcomed, have enjoyed many exhibitions there and taking part in the brilliant ‘New Narratives’ exhibition myself, as far back as 2018, means I’ve had a long running connection with the gallery.

I joined up as a part of their new membership innitiative a couple of weeks ago on the back of feeling keen not to become isolated from other artists once I start working from home. Photos of artists in the member’s show and their work, subsequently posted on hARTslane’s IG thread, have pictured people I’ve followed for a while on social media but have never met in person – such a shame that I had to dash off. Next time, though – the fact it’s local to where I live meaning that I’m much more likely to be able to get along to the events and shows put on.

‘Love is a Losing Game’ – found objects SE8 photo by Kate Murdoch

My work for ‘Love Shack’ was a photo I took some time back. I thought of it immediately the theme of love was introduced. The title ‘Love is a losing game’ is after one of Amy’s most heartrending songs (see link below ). I work primarily with found objects, forming assemblages and installations of my own with them. This time round, the objects formed a ready made installation – photographed, just as I found them, outside a block of flats in Creekside, Deptford. As ever, I thought about the story behind the objects: Why were they abandoned in the street – the lampshade, the duvet and of course, the reproduced photo of Amy Winehouse? Were they symbolic of a broken relationship, perhaps – the photo of Amy evoking too many memories to hold onto?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EjPCUKzZlfQ

First sunny day in quite a while when I can just about stand being outside for any length of time. The boxes – all 102 of them (I’ve reduced them down by one already!) are out of the shed for now, stacked up in the garden while the source of the leaks is looked into. I’m not taking any more chances of having things ruined – especially the paper work. Hopefully, the process won’t take too long …

It’s fascinating looking into the boxes’ contents once again – en masse, that is. So many numerous, diverse objects seen through the plastic – blurred and yet, recognisable.

Next part of this momentous journey is to get the garden studio sorted so that I can get back to some sort of normality. There’s a lot of stuff jammed in there still – hardly touched since using it as a dumping ground for the contents of my former studio in the week between Christmas and New Year. I’m remembering the sound advice given to me by family and friends – ‘there really is no rush, take your time, pace yourself’ and so on. And so, I’m doing my best to be sensible so that I don’t burn myself out by working all hours god sends, as is my tendency.

There really is no hurry and I can say that so much more comfortably now that I’m more readily accepting this whole sorting process as an integral part of my creative work. Strange that I haven’t until now, really but then I think that’s largely due to the fact that I’ve never been totally open about the amount of stuff I have.

Any reference to my collections/raw work materials in the past has mentioned a substantial amount of stuff, but I have never, until recently, been completely open about having one hundred and two 30 litre boxes full of  it! Indeed, did I even know I had this amount until this whole process started? Having different bits and pieces stashed away here and there meant hiding in some respects – not consciously, I don’t think – but perhaps, thinking about it, my subconscious knew what it was doing. There’s a lot of embarrassment associated with hoarding and the stigma associated with it can make me feel hypersensitive to any discerned judgment. I know that I can become pretty defensive whenever the subject of how much stuff I’ve collected is broached. And so, rather than running away from facing the truth, I’m starting to embrace it. It actually feels quite refreshing to be open and honest about it all – down to 101 now, even as I type this post!

I’m looking forward to getting the shed leak proofing done and the boxes back in place by the end of today. I want the door closed on them, both physically and metaphorically, so that I can turn my focus to getting the garden studio sorted and back to the work I left way back at the end of December 2024 – the work around blankets, synonymous with comfort and warmth, the very things I didn’t feel at all at that time.

Or perhaps not? Perhaps my focus will fall on something entirely different and new? Who knows what this recent upheaval might bring? Change is good, they say – as good as a rest – and rest is something I intend to take in between the ongoing sorting.